Go Go V1
by celllaboratories
Summary: What if you never had to work for love? What if love worked for you? In Cell, Celluloids (Humans) and Androids (product) live side by side. Androids are used for human servitude, particularly in the sex trade. This story, as part of The 27 Saga, follows the character Go and the unfortunate series of events leading to her husband's mysterious disappearance.


Preface:

Episode I: Newton's universal law of gravitation: Calculates the force of gravity between two objects. Used techniques of calculus to describe how the world works. Even though it was later supplanted by Einstein's theory of relativity, it is still essential for practical description of how objects interact with each other. We use it to this day to design orbits for satellites and probes.

"At night together we can see way past the stars. I don't want this ever to end."

Contents

I) C:/Go_Go

II) NICO

III) The Denouement: The end of the Affair

IV) Love is not a formula

C:/Go_Go

We were addicted to each other. I feel obtuse admitting this but his smile was contagious. All I wanted to do was make him laugh – incessantly and endlessly. They say Cell's origins are deeply rooted by the Universal Law of Gravitation – a subject matter I studied intimately in Academy. Nico and I shared our first kiss at a recycling facility for assembly-line drones six years ago today.

We met at an engagement party for some people who meant something vaguely shared between us. I guess you can say I was drunk in love. Well, I had four Dark and Stormy's that evening. Perhaps I was just drunk. I recall that evening vividly:

This party is as exciting as a bar graph. I retreat to the balcony for some air. Nico strolls up to me – dark hair, darker eyes. His eyes flickering green as asks me what I think about the view.

I replied, "At night, from this part of Cell, you can see way past the stars."

He's into me. I can tell already. I'm exuding her programmed confidence tonight. He asks me what I do. I reply honestly, "I'm a programmer but mainly I write personality quizzes for Sex Bots." Nico doesn't laugh, he just smiles. This turns me on.

"You know the cleft on your chin makes you appear untrustworthy." I saunter. Nico places two fingers on his chin, shielding his indiscretion. I smile back.

He grabs my hand and begs we leave the soiree. We neglect farewells and dash down the stair-well leading us outside a neighboring recycling plant. The particular facility is equipped to dismantle drones from a Nabisco plant. Nabisco – purveyors of all consumer sweets, enjoyed a relatively productive night the evening our lips met. The sugar stacks are blaring scores of white marshmallow dust into the alley.

The sugar in the air – so thick - coated both our faces with a delicate layer of silky powder. Nico reaches under my coat to touch the small of my back. I thought, "How could he know my spot already? We just met." I moisten my lips and grow wet. He moves into kiss me against the factory exterior. He removes lifts my skirt and rips my stockings as he engages me – hard. I feel him deep inside me. He's deeper than any before him. My spine tingles and I am dripping wet. I bite my lip so hard that it begins to bleed. I taste Nico's sweat – sweetened from the sugar in the air and bitter from my blood. He moves in and out of me and I grab his back and push him harder into me. His flesh, his sweat, his saliva – I am in heaven.

We scramble through the sugar dust again and embrace face to face. We giggle – as if to say without words that we got away with avarice. Surely our entanglement was caught on a multitude of factory security lenses that evening. Nico brushes droplets of soft sugar from my engorged bottom lip revealing the red below. He kisses me again – this time harder.

We met in the winter and we married in the spring.

NICO

So it was one of her tech events – she usually attends one per Quarter in alignment with production release cycles for new android models. And I usually don't attend with her. It's not that I'm completely uninterested in engaging in this facet of Go Go's life. That would be silly. I am all prongs invested in her. I have been since the moment our eyes locked and I made her melt by the sugar factory.

I'm absurdly jealous of what her work has to offer her – AI so advanced that they make me pale in comparison. Sure, I've grown and formulated certain capacities for compassion and democracy but for some reason, I cannot fathom that she'd not find one of these fortuitous, perfect laboratory creations the slightest bit tempting.

Admittedly, it's for this reason that I came to this stupid event today. So I'm waiting here at our table. Go is gaggling with some of the Lockheed junkers trying to engage in an investment round. I can make out what she is saying – barely. I learned to lip read in Academy.

"Things are good," Go regales the junker on our status – we have not even been introduced yet. I wait for her to summon me over. She doesn't. "I'm interested in building a strategy to bring Cell Labs into the new social sphere this quarter," she jumps topics. Perhaps the 'things were good' bit was not about her &amp; I come to think about it. I walk over to her.

"Babe," I touch her lower back – her spot. She edges away about a quarter inch and I feel it. "Care to introduce me to your friends?" I gesture towards the Lockheed junkers and scan them. There's three of them – they look like the C-Sharp front line infantry android models of early cell – only slightly taller. I focus on this one to Go's right. He's a monster. I'm sure she'd describe him as "devilishly handsome." Go always enjoys colloquialisms. His eyes are this awful shade of green as they start to sinisterly unzip Go's skirt – which is too short for any professional event. I glance downwards: The Lockheed model is hard under his black Lockheed designer suit pant.

My mind wanders and I picture the retiring to the washroom. He enters the area and she follows – waltzing and careless. The potential that I may be watching excites her more and Go's wet by the time she finds him and locks the door behind them. She always fantasizes fucking one of these programmed monstrosities. She never admitted it but I know it. I hear her giggling with her gaggle of friends (or lady hawks as I came to call them) about how android dick gets so hard that it can fuck you into the next eon. How corny – I roll my eyes. He lifts up her blue skirt and rips through her pantyhose. He penetrates her with two fingers at first and lets her taste. He quickly turns her around and bends her over the porcelain sink. The lights are orange and dim. It's not a romantic fuck but it's the fuck she desires and the one that she needs. He pushes himself deeper and deeper into Go each stroke. Her hips are banging up against the sink as he takes her from behind. He grips her hips to save them but, in turn, breaks a little at her skin holding her tight. This particular model is programmed to kill and fuck like an animal.

"Nico, you're sweating," Go Go pokes him in the shoulder.

Nico pulls GoGo firmly by her wrist. "I can't believe you brought me to witness this shit Go. It's just like you to do this kind of thing to me. That's you – rude Go. Always thinking about how you're going to swoon the next client into Cell Labs." Nico's brow furrows – it's one of the token measures by which Go knows indicated a level 5 level of insecurity.

"Are you a 5 Nico? Are you ready to go?" she inquired softly.

It's as if she's pandering me and I know it. She just engaged that android scum in front of me and wants to know if I'm Okay. Maybe I'm not okay. Maybe I haven't been okay since the day she took the job at the laboratories.

"No, hun." I grab Nico by the small of her back once more. "I'm very proud of you." Go moves into me and looks into me. Her eyes are jet black, as if her pupils had dilated over her dark blue irises – those dark blue eyes I feel in love with three years ago.

I left the scum fest to grab another tonic at the bar. The bartender is obviously human. I mean obvious in the sense that I can't see his abdominals trying to pierce through his dress shirt. He's not clean shaven either – rather he may try to clean shave for these gigs but not as clean as someone who is born to be crisp.

I sit down to the bartender's right. He looks up at me as if he knows and pikes, "What do you think about that?"

"What do I think about what?" I respond.

"Those androids talking to your dame. That's what." She smirks.

I laugh a little and my eyes motion towards the Brooklyn Gin in the black bottle. "Just give me a drink."

She grabs the BG Black. I suppose I'd been staring unsubtly.

"You know I had a dame leave me for Android Scum before." She kept talking at me.

"You know I could give a shit…." I trailed off. Did she say she? "What's your name?"

"Well if you're going to be rude about it my name is Jane." She snapped, "And if you're going to be nice about it my name is still Jane."

The Denouement: The end of the Affair

The winter we met at The Black Hat benefit, it was the coldest winter in all of Cell History. I remember this distinctly, not only because it was my first in Colony 3, the northern most Colony of Cell, but because, for the most part of it, I was naked. The only warmth I recall from that winter was the warmth from Nico's skin – his flesh, so taut and firm.

He throws me on his bed, hard. He cites, "I want you here, spread open for me to pillage over and over. I'm going to be so deep inside you tonight. I want to make you come so hard you won't be able to walk for eons."

I trusted that as he entered me, unsheathed, that I would not grow thick. I had been on production control since birth.

Go touches me. Her index caresses my left palm as if to say, "To Cell with you. Where is your mind?" I look back into her dark pool eyes in response. I'm sickened. I'm less grossed out by the thoughts crippling my head but more by her index finger - that finger that grasped my cock last night and the nights before. That lying index finger and combined hand - her hand. I shudder, "How could you do this to us?"

Go glances up to me. She must hear me speaking under my breath. "Are you ready to go?" She pines.

"I've been ready for you Go." I retort. "I've been ready for you forever."

Engaged

It's inside me. This thing. We're made to believe, as women, that we have a choice in these matters. That somehow, as if in some fairytale existence that I have a choice on whether this cell inside me divides and divides and breathes and conquers. I'm left here with this question. I love Nico. There is no doubt in my mind that I love him. And yet the question remains: Do I love him enough?

Hell - am I enough to keep our child?

I remember the day the Ordinance announced its ruling on half breeds. I was 16.

"Article I: Any offspring between human (Cellulous) and artificial (product) is rendered illegal by these states and punishable by early disengagement and / or termination of product (contracted or free)."

As a free product, I am entitled to certain benefits. I can tread through Cell without a warrant. That is, I can walk colony to colony without subject to random stop and frisk from Ordinance Officials. I'm not subject to normal product curfew. That is to say that I can tread outside of my work shifts without notice or reports of my whereabouts.

The liberties I've enjoyed as free product are multifarious. I've been told on various occasions by product and Cell alike that I "have it better" than they.

Being product, by nature, has its advantages: I never get tired. I work 5 jobs, have military high rank, and am rarely questioned when I seek from Ordinance ration.

I get away with crime. I do. During last quarter's ration drought, I skipped a line of over three hundred Cell and product citizens and copped 2 gallons of high octane reserve, as well as several cartages of Nabisco. I didn't need any food sustenance of course. In a way I didn't even need the Carbon fuel - nor did Nico need the bread.

I can be candid with you and admit that I did it all for him. That I stole for him. But that would be a lie. And it's nonsense to lie now.

I picture a boy. I picture a boy inside me. And he's beautiful. He's everything we ever wanted. His eyes - they are brown. Why should I even be able to imagine such beauty in this world? Cell is not a beautiful place nor would it permit or be subjected to such alien qualities. Strong, multitasking, intelligent - those are qualities more suited for a gentleman of Cell. Yet as he grows inside me, I feel something insurgent - something that stands in protest to Cell - in contest to everything Cell stands for. I may be having those delusions of grandeur again. Nico and I have a therapist that contends mine are rampant.

Fuck her.

I see a boy.

NICO

So I wrote this poem for Go. And I doubt she'll ever read it. I made a total ass of myself at that benefit. I stormed out and left her stranded. I wouldn't even talk to me after.

"A bright red tune turned upside down.

I was painting a portrait of you.

And I programmed you blue."

O Kay. It's my first go at writing a haiku so sue me. When I met Go, she was the most beautiful creature I've seen in all of my 10227 days in Cell. I knew then and I know now that I want her in my measly little life forever.

When I see her with these other products, I'm just insane. I get irrationally upset. I just want to smash their perfect little faces into the wall. And I could - but I'm a gentleman. It's just when I think I'm here - I have an expiration date - something clicks with me.

And I think about those junkers. Those junkers. How could they bring me to this point?

The last time I fucked Go was magical:

"Take off my panties," she giggles. "With your teeth."

My porcelain caresses her inner thigh, I rub my lips against her silken skin. I lick her in that spot between her clit and her lips. It's my favorite spot to taste. She sighs hard. I lick her again and nibble her soft flesh as she trembles. She quivers as I put my index finger into her.

I penetrate her with my fingers slowly and continue to kiss her UI. She's built perfectly. Her lips quiver and I am hard. I want to enter her but I wait. I want to make her feel good.

I use my thumb to press her harder. I spit into my left hand to moisten her (as if she needs it) and spread her legs wider. I kiss her UI again and my tongue is against her RAM. I lick her rapidly and she pulsates.

"You are my everything." She shouts.

I believe her.

I bend her over and enter her sopping wet UI from behind. She moans in delight. My dick is so hard it feels like it's going to break off inside her aperture. She moves her hips with my rhythm as I press deeper and deeper into her UI. I feel the arch of her back with my palms - so soft. The metal within her presses upon my cock as I ride her faster. Every press into her is heavenly.

She turns over suddenly and opens her mouth.

"Come in my mouth," she begs.

I am nearly there and grab my cock. I shove myself into her waiting red lips as she swallows me.

I watch as her lips caress me and I heave. Go brings me more pleasure than I've ever receipted in my whole 28 years in Cell. She licks me as she grapples my thighs. Her nails dig into my skin as I shake. "How is it so easy for them," I wonder. All other girls don't do this to me. Not like this. And I'm a whore - how could those girls not know what a guy would like?

I push her out and onto the bed. I spread her wide open and penetrate her again. This time deeper. She moans as I press into her again and again - my dick into her sopping wet UI.

And to think... She's just a whore.

Love is not a formula

Detective Six, sitting on the north stool of the investigation chamber, as he prefers, catches himself staring at Go's breasts and quickly repositions himself with his left hand as he slyly presses firmly against the black pleat in his officer pants.

"When was the last time you got laid Detective?" Go bites her lower lip a bit. She's always been aroused by men in certain uniforms.

"When was the last time ….," Go repeats – part of her programming requires her to loop until her requites fulfilled. This recursive trait helps bots engage more successfully.

Six interjects, "I ask the questions."

Go is aroused even moreso. Uniformed and forceful – I wish he'd use it on me.

"Where do I begin sir?" Go settles.

"Start at the beginning and when you get to the end … stop." Six stretches his leg out from under the laboratory black lacquer table so that his wingtip strikes Go's heel.

These particular chambers in the laboratory are not intentionally designed as interrogation rooms but became fashioned as such post The Rebel Acts of Ordinance 6000. The facilities still very much resembled the original dismantle laboratories – equipped with particle disseminators, droid parts, and subcutaneous RAM instruments strung about.

"We met at an event. We hit it off. We fell in love," Go rushes, "We fucked a lot in the beginning, a little towards the end, and he left me after he found out I was Bugged."

"The medical staff did indicate in their notes from the scene of the incident that you are pregnant with a half child." Six adds. "Congratulations."

"Thank you sir." Go spreads her legs so that her heel strikes Six's wingtip perhaps in contest to the term half child – a derogatory term for offspring from an android and a Celluloid parent.

"When did he leave you?" Six continues.

"Yesterday." Go answers him, moistening her lips against one another.

"Listen Go," Six presses forward into the table and his grey eyes finally meet hers. "You're not a suspect here."

Six stands and walks towards to the north wall. The laboratories fluorescents flicker upon his skin. Six is handsome and demure. He's a cynical beast but his romantic greys are the color of ancient American fairy tales. Six removes his waist coat revealing a black button up. The top button is undo and Go catches a glimpse of his form – taut and muscular. There appears to be a scar to the right of his neck that runs against his strapping shoulder. He stands with his back to Go with his hands pressed against his waist.

Go grows wet.

"We never planned to fall in love Detective – Nico and I. Nobody in this damn Colony plans on falling in love." Go pines, "But we were very much in love. Perhaps he fell out of love with me and fled. I never truly fell out of love with him. Not the Nico that I wanted to love."

Six, still facing the wall, continues, "That's all well and good miss. What we need to start unearthing are less the why's but the how's. It's not about why Nico disappeared. It's about how. Missing person cases statistically go unresolved passed the first 48 hours. We need to know all the how's so we can find your husband safe and sound. That's all."

"You want that right?" The detective returns to the laboratory table, this time standing within an earshot of Go so she can feel his breath on her neck while he speaks.


End file.
